


It Takes A Village

by rosetwopointoh



Series: AJ Shepard [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, Paragon FemShep died on the Citadel, Past Relationship(s), post-trilogy, romance eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2353952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosetwopointoh/pseuds/rosetwopointoh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane Shepard didn't leave only Kaidan and Garrus behind when she died for her galaxy. Kaidan and Garrus find out raising Shepard's daughter might be more difficult than destroying the Reapers.</p><p>Luckily, Ashley Jane Shepard has aunts. Lots of aunts. Uncles, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kaidan

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of my standalone piece, "Green Eyes and Brown Hair". While it's not required reading, and it's briefly recapped here, it's definitely suggested.
> 
> Thanks to barbex for leaving a comment on "Green Eyes" that made me start thinking… and generated this story.

AJ was two years old when Kaidan had to ship out again.

OK; she was twenty-seven months and four days old. Not that he’d been counting.

And it wasn’t that he hadn’t been gone before. He’d made trips to London, to Vancouver, the odd not-a-mission-more-a-placeholder-of-galactic-authority sort of trip to a struggling colony or two. The longest had been ten days, and after four he’d been obsessively checking his ‘tool, pestering Garrus for photos, vids, _anything_ about his girl.

Their girl.

Kaidan rubbed his temples and stared into his coffee mug. It was the first time he’d been sent out on super-secret-Spectre-nonsense-business, as Joker put it. First time he was gone silent; first time he was gone with no real knowledge of when he’d be back; first time he’d be doing super-deadly-Spectre-stuff (another phrase of the pilot’s).

Well, at least he had Joker. The two of them had shared more than one whiskey-laced night in mourning, for different reasons and the same--for EDI and for Shepard, for a limp infiltration mech and a body only recognized by what shouldn’t have been there.

He pushed away the memory that it had taken Miranda’s incredibly detailed notes and near-salarian memory to convince the medical crews that the cybernetic implants and skin, muscle, and bone weaves retrieved from the Citadel weren’t husk remains somehow covered with fragments of N7-quality armor materials. He hadn’t been there, but she’d told him, afterwards, when he’d insisted on knowing how they knew, how they were sure it was her.

Needing to clear his mind of that image, he pulled up a flickering photo of himself and AJ on his ‘tool, unable to smooth the smile that tugged at his lips. 

“More photos, sir?” Westmoreland asked, holding her own coffee mug. “She’s the cutest thing.”

“Turning into a regular terror,” he said, tilting his arm so the image was clearer. “She’s picking up way too many languages.”

“I have a nephew her age. Don’t think he’s shut up since he’s started talking.” She suddenly got that vaguely distracted look all soldiers did when their earpiece started up. “They need me upstairs.”

“Dismissed, Private. Don’t work too hard.”

“You as well, sir.”

As she left, Kaidan briefly reflected on the Normandy’s crew. She carried only just more than a skeleton crew--partially because she had to, with so few available, and partially because it wasn’t technically an Alliance mission. Many of those aboard, though, had served under Shepard, and were more than willing to sign on with Spectre Alenko.

It was... odd, being here, without Chakwas, Liara, Garrus, Tali. Some familiar faces, but only a couple of the important ones. Joker was the only one trusted to fly the Normandy, now, without EDI. Cortez had tried to come on as shuttle pilot, but some last-minute need for his skills with fighters had pulled him away. Kaidan regretted he hadn’t fought for Steve’s presence here on the Normandy. He needed that skill at his back.

“Hey, Major!”

He’d kept James, though, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Vega,” he replied. Hackett had resisted handing him over, but between the fact that the soldier was an N7 candidate--and probably a Spectre candidate, eventually--and that they had no way of figuring out what Kaidan might be facing, out in the void, Hackett agreed that Kaidan needed someone solid at his six. It hadn’t hurt that the Spectre had pointed out that Vega needed to learn leadership skills a bit more traditionally than under Collector and Reaper threats, perhaps from someone a little more balanced and less gung-ho than Shepard--give him some perspective.

James sat across from him, a protein bar and mug of coffee in hand. The man had a few more scars and another tat, but otherwise looked remarkably the same as he had during his first tour with the Normandy. “How’s the kid?”

“Great, except neither of us can understand her when she starts going in quarian. Translator doesn’t cover baby-babble. Tali’s overjoyed, of course.”

Vega grinned and tore another chunk out of his protein bar. Kaidan pursed his lips to avoid chuckling, taking a sip out of his mug to hide the motion. He scowled as soon as the excuse for coffee hit his lips.

“Ever heard of cowboy coffee, Major?”

“Rings a bell.”

“Used to just dump coffee grounds right into hot water, not filter it. Drink the entire thing. Sludge. It was real coffee beans, though, not what we’re drinking these days.”

“Flavored and colored caffeinated liquid, you mean?”

“Uh-huh.” James raised an eyebrow at his mug, sighed, and chugged the whole thing in one go. Kaidan watched him, saw the adam’s apple of his throat bob once, twice, three times...

 _Snap out of it, LT,_ he thought, as clearly as if Ash had told him, all those years ago. Kaidan shifted in his seat, as if that would rein in the twitching in his fatigues. He snorted softly in laughter and took a gulp from his mug, pulling a face as the taste ruined his palate. It wasn’t as if he was intentionally celibate, really, but juggling a two year old, both Spectre and Alliance duties, and post-war cleanup really left no time for striking up a romantic relationship. Many were in his position, and while the oldest profession in the galaxy had resumed as soon as there were bedrooms, Kaidan knew there was no way he could make such a visit and not hear about it in the news. It wasn’t like it was before, with Sha’ira, and as visible as he was, half his goings-on were reported. There was enough pressure, what with the press trying to get photos of AJ, asking prying questions, the tabloids speculating on her real father, why she was being raised by a human and a turian, how she’d be scarred for life being raised by men, one of them an alien...

“You okay there?”

“Hm? Oh. Just... hoping nothing blows up in the press when I’m not there. Garrus doesn’t care what they say about him, but if they say anything about AJ when he’s in earshot...”

“Man’s gotta protect his girl.”

“Right. Except the turian reaction to that is closer to evisceration than ‘no comment’.” Kaidan sighed. “Last time he overloaded the camera. It burned the tech. That took some serious smoothing over.”

“I get asked about it, even.”

“What?”

“Who her father is.”

 _Oh. That._ While it was fairly obvious to those close to them who’d served aboard the SR-1--and that number was fair few, now--Garrus and Kaidan hadn’t exactly broadcast AJ’s parentage. The turian clearly had no genetic claim, but he and Shepard had been seen enough together that, with a bit of carefully orchestrated nudging by Liara, it was a comfortably accepted fact that he had adopted Shepard’s daughter just as he would have if she were alive. Speculations he’d heard ranged from conspiracy theories involving the Illusive Man to breed an army of Shepards to her and Garrus wanting a child and using a donor. Garrus had admitted that that was the rumor he tried to circulate most--it would likely have been the truth once they’d been able to settle down. (There had also been a very tempting bit of gossip going that The Enkindlers had granted Shepard the gift of immaculate conception--while Garrus had been confused, Kaidan had laughed until his sides ached. Human and hanar religion was an interesting combination.)

“Odd that people ask you. I mean, not because you didn’t know her, but...”

“People ask me all sorts of things. Classified shit, Spectre stuff, whether Cerberus was really working for the Reapers. I don’t even understand most of what they ask. It’s nuts. I bet it’s not even half of what she had to handle, though.”

“Something like that,” Kaidan said, quietly, and sighed. He’d insisted on having Vega aboard for a variety of reasons, and one of them was that he could trust him. Somehow, along the line, he’d been left out of one of the more important pieces of information. “Mind coming upstairs? Mission-sensitive stuff we should go over.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Vega trashed the wrapper from his protein bar and put his mug in the wash; Kaidan dumped the rest of his coffee and followed suit before leading the way to the elevator.

_Mission-sensitive, my ass. More like Kaidan-critical._


	2. Garrus

“What’s that human phrase for this? Anger management?” Garrus’s subvocals were spiraling rapidly in anxiety, barely audible in the room where screams were loudest.

“No, that would be you in a room full of Suns mercs. The one you want is _temper tantrum_ ,” Miranda said as she scooped up an armful of screaming two-year-old.

“ _Papa!”_ AJ shrieked, pausing only long enough to sniffle and hiccup before her wails began again, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Miranda rested the back of her hand against the toddler’s forehead. “She’s feverish.”

“Damn. I can never tell. Must be why she always wants Kaidan when she’s sick.” Garrus’s mandibles tucked in tightly against his jaw as he moved into the kitchen.

Miranda made a non-committal noise. “Turians run hot. Doesn’t that visor help?”

“I... huh. Never thought to use it.”

“Typical. Men, right, honey?” Miranda dabbed at the child’s damp cheeks and wiped her nose and mouth clean, then took the cool, damp cloth Garrus held out and laid it over her forehead, gently swaying. “You have any fever reducer?”

“Kaidan made sure we had all of that stuff before he left. I’m sure we do.” Garrus opened a cabinet and flicked through the plastic tub (thoughtfully labeled BABY FIRST AID: LEVO, just above FIRST AID: DEXTRO in Kaidan’s careful script) inside before pulling out a box, from which he extracted a bottle and small syringe. Mumbling to himself about weight and age, he carefully measured the dose and capped the bottle before moving to where Miranda held the slowly calming AJ, fatigue sapping her of her frustration now that the cool cloth eased her discomfort. Miranda gently squeezed AJ’s cheeks, opening her mouth, and Garrus squirted the purple syrup on the back of her tongue. A weak cry accompanied such handling, but she quieted down. Garrus’s mandibles flickered in a smile. “Berry flavor’s her favorite, when it comes to medicine.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

A few blessed minutes of silence later and AJ was dozing; quietly Miranda left to put the child down to nap. When she came back Garrus was pulling down glasses and opening the liquor cabinet, high above a curious child’s reach. “Want anything?”

“Sure. Got any juice?”

Garrus shook his head, smiling. “You’re asking the one with a human two year old if there is any juice. Yes, there is juice.”

“Vodka, then.” Miranda raided the refrigerator while the turian reached for the bottles; a few minutes later they sat across from each other at the kitchen table, sipping their respective drinks. “How’s reconstruction been on Palaven?”

“Not bad, all told. They tried to keep me over there, but AJ’s too young to handle the heat, much less the radiation. Kaidan is gone for at least a month, maybe more, so I’ll be in one place for a while. Nice, really, if a bit lonely. Citadel’s not much for socializing these days.”

“Well, let me know if you need help. Even I can take a few days off, here and there.”

“Long as you don’t mind staying in Kaidan’s room. I have a few pretty nasty days coming up--meetings during the day, conferences with Palaven in the middle of the night.”

“I will never get you to admit to being a workaholic, will I?”

“Not until you get Liara to. She’s a lost cause, I think. I once heard her say she was going to have to start sleeping _less_.”

“Well, I think Sam has taken care of that.” Miranda’s lips flickered in a smile.

“Wait--Traynor? Really?”

“You do _not_ want to know how much Joker won on that one.” Miranda chuckled, swirling the alcohol in her glass.

“Took them long enough.”

When Glyph and most of Liara’s feeds had gone offline, Samantha had been the most help in restoring order, and rapidly the Alliance had seen the wisdom in lending her out to work with Dr. T’Soni on a more... _permanent_ basis. Apparently there had been some embracing of eternity thrown in for good measure. It was a good thing; Liara had been seriously shellshocked by the destruction of her homeworld and death of so many asari, and she’d always got on well with Traynor. If the two of them couldn’t manage the galaxy’s secrets, it was really a lost cause.

Once their drinks were done, Miranda left with Garrus’s promise to check in later about AJ. After checking on his sleeping daughter, he took advantage of the unusual quiet to work in peace. A steady hour passed, the chaotic mess of his inbox neatened, the datapads on his desk slowly transferring from their varying stacks into the “done” pile.

“Such a studious worker, Vakarian.”

Garrus jumped, reaching for his sidearm, and Kasumi uncloaked. The turian glared as he set the tiny pistol back into the inlay on his desk. “Do you make _noise?”_

“No.” The lithe thief settled into a chair, perching her chin on her palm, smiling.

“I don’t suppose the door chime does?”

“I didn’t bother to try it.”

“Of course not.”

“It might have woken AJ up.”

 _The problem is she has a point._ Garrus sighed and sat back in his chair. “Need me for something?”

“Don’t I always?” The thief tinkered with her omnitool for a moment, bringing up a data feed; suddenly the apartment’s power dimmed before returning to normal.

“Really, Kasumi? Hacking my power supply?”

“Interrupting any incoming or outgoing communications.” Her ‘tool flickered out. “I need a favor.”

“And I suppose I owe you?”

“How many favors did I do for you, back in the day, Vakarian?”

“I sort of played an instrumental role in what I like to call _saving the galaxy from the Reapers_. I think that wipes the slate clean.”

“Funny.” 

“So I’ve been told. What can I do?”

“I might have gotten into a spot of trouble here on the Citadel.”

“You know Kaidan’s the Spectre, right? Not me?”

“Hierarchy business.”

Garrus sighed. “Kasumi, why would you get involved with anything related to the Hierarchy? It’s not like you don’t have anything else to do. Liara asks me regularly if I’ve talked you into working for her yet.”

The petite thief waved her hand in dismissal.

“What is it?”

“I may have been cloaked nearby when Councilor Arterius expressed... anti-human sentiments.”

Garrus blinked. Tonn Arterius--a relative of Saren’s--had always been prickly about humans. He hadn’t been an ideal pick for Councilor, but Victus had wanted _Garrus_ for the job. When Garrus appeared on the vidcomm to speak with Adrien about the matter, exhausted, thoroughly rumpled, a baby blanket and infant child over one shoulder and the tiny fist refusing to let go of one talon making a salute impossible, Victus had burst out laughing and told him he’d find another interim Councilor--one who wasn’t covered in spit-up. One of Garrus’s mandibles flickered in a half-grin at the memory.

“That’s not news, Kasumi. If you want to be polite you can call him a bitter asshole stuck in the dark ages. Everyone knows he’s xenophobic.”

“There were indiscreet references suggesting why Shepard was able to broker peace between turians and krogans aboard the Normandy, behind closed doors. I... don’t want to make it blatant, Garrus, but...”

“Out with it, Kasumi. It’s better coming from you.”

“He was suggesting that she slept with--”

Garrus shook his head firmly, his eyes closed. “Yeah. That’s--that’s enough.”

“I’m sorry, Garrus.”

“I... it’s good you told me. He’s been Councilor too long as it is, and now he’s getting cocky.”

“Your name was involved, too.”

“Of course it was.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose you have audio?”

“And visuals.”

“Damn.” The turian stood, walking around the living space he and Kaidan had been allotted. “Damn. I have to take this to Victus.”

“Just keep my name out of it.”

“Of course. But stop sneaking around councilors’ offices, alright?”

“They were just outside the Council chambers.”

Garrus let an expletive fly. “Send me the files. I’ll get in touch with Victus.” 

Kasumi nodded. His ‘tool flared, briefly, and his terminal _bing_ ed a moment later. The thief rose and, in that oddly almost-omniscient way of hers, said, “AJ’s waking up.”

“Thanks, I think,” Garrus drawled, smiling. “Nice to see you. It would be nice if you could drop by sometime like normal people, though.”

“That would take all the fun out of it,” she said, and slipped back into nothingness.

He heard AJ babbling to herself in the next room. He had a few minutes before she’d start causing trouble, and he took the time to write to Victus.

_//I need to see you. Urgent. -GV//_

The reply was almost immediate. _//I leave for Palaven tonight. -AV//_

_//Fit me in before you do. -GV//_

Garrus was meandering towards the kitchen with his perpetually-hungry daughter when his ‘tool chimed again. “Daddy?” she asked. “Tool!”

“Yep. Daddy’s talking to the Primarch.”

“Mr. Vic!”

Garrus always warred between no-holds-barred laughter and utter embarrassment at AJ’s nickname for Primarch Victus. He didn’t mind, had even told Garrus that AJ reminded him of grandchildren he wouldn’t have, and while that was a sad memory of the loss of a child, Garrus was glad the Primarch had something other than devastation and loss to keep him company when on the Citadel (as Victus often spent free evenings with the Vakarian-Alenko household).

With AJ in her safety chair, happily making a mess of her juice and crackers, Garrus looked at the message. _//This had better be good. I bumped Arterius for you. -AV//_

_//You may or may not regret that. We’ll see. -GV//_


	3. Kaidan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which James learns something new.

“So... uh... mission stuff?” Vega looked somewhat blankly over the mess that was the captain’s cabin. The fishtank was gone, replaced by shelving; the bed--a single one, not the massive monstrosity--was where the couch had been, the seating and table shifted to where it could look out on the stars. It wasn’t completely finished from the replacement jobs that nearly every ship had needed, what with every AI and all but the simplest VIs disabled after the Crucible discharged, but the cables were tucked neatly into corners and along the edges of the room.

“Yeah. Sit, if you want.” Kaidan went to the terminal and typed a command. “ _Privacy protocols initiated, Spectre Alenko,”_ it replied.

“Major?” Kaidan looked over at James, who was decidedly confused.

“‘Mission stuff’ was code for ‘for your ears only’.” Kaidan sat across from him, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I guess this goes back to 2183. Normandy--the SR-1--was finished, Anderson given command.”

“You were on board as Staff Lieutenant, Shepard was XO. I know.”

“That’s a little creepy, Vega.”

“She... Shepard and I talked, when she was under house arrest. She told me stories. Seemed to keep her sane, so I listened.”

“Sounds like her.” Kaidan scrubbed his hands over his face. “She... was different, then. So... _good_ , but by the book. A little too much.”

“Book’s only good as far as you can throw it, sometimes.”

“Yeah.” He breathed for a moment. “Book’s pretty stern about regs, too.”

Vega sat back, crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, come to think of it, I’ve hardly heard you throw the book at people. I’d expect you to be harsher, running your own ship. Shepard, too, but with the Reapers I guess it didn’t make sense to waste time with regs.”

“Well, we’re under Spectre authority right now. Hackett can’t yell at me. But... I’d be a hypocrite to quote regs at people, now. Used to. But after I broke some... didn’t seem fair.” He tensed his lips again, trying to figure out how to do this smoothly, without being so obvious.

“Everybody breaks regs, _amigo_. Hungover on duty... oh man.” James chuckled.

“Fraternization, James.” His fingers interlaced to keep from fiddling, Kaidan looked up to meet the other man’s gaze. “We--Jane and I--neither of us could give anybody shit for fraternizing.”

Silence, for a long while, before sudden understanding dawned on James.

“ _Mierda_ , Alenko. She’s _yours._ ”

“Yeah.”

“God _damn!”_ James stood up, walked around the room for a minute. “Wait--that doesn’t--what about Vakarian?”

“That’s where it gets complicated.”

“Complicated. _Complicated? Dios.”_

“Now you sound like Hackett.”

“Wait. Hackett knows? Kaidan--Alenko-- _sir_ , who knows besides me?”

Kaidan sighed. “Don’t hit me.”

“What?”

“Please. Don’t. I feel bad enough about this as it is.”

“I don’t see--”

“The old crew, who’s left, anyway. Garrus, obviously. Tali, Liara. Joker, who somehow hasn’t said anything. Shepard’s mom, Hannah. Miranda. Chakwas. Samantha. Kasumi, because she finds everything out somehow. Jack, who happened to be within earshot when Kasumi asked. Hackett, like I said.”

James stewed, for a few long moments, face expressionless. “When were you going to tell me?”

“It’s not like we were trying _not_ to, James, it’s--”

“Sir.” Vega swallowed, his body tense. “ _When?_ I deserved to know.”

Kaidan sighed. “Yes. You did.”

“I’ve been with you guys since--I helped carry her coffin--I’ve _babysat_ , for crying out loud! I was at her birthday party! I’m as much that little girl’s family as all of them are!”

“Vega. James. I’m _sorry._ I don’t have an excuse.”

“Try.”

“It just never came up. Not really. Those who knew Shepard and I were together--well, if they didn’t know from the SR-1, they knew after I fucked it up on Horizon, after... Cerberus. Jack and Garrus were there, I think. It wasn’t hard for them to put the pieces together, after they knew a few more details.”

Vega slumped on the sofa, his face in his hands.

“Obviously, I have to ask you not to share this.”

“Gee, ya think?”

“Vega...”

“Why hide the truth, Alenko?”

Kaidan sighed. “It’s to protect her, James. Enough people think that biotics are genetic, still--and hell, there might be a component--and she was definitely exposed to eezo, and with the two of us... you saw her. I’m already waiting for her to levitate or--well, more likely blow something up.” Vega snorted; that _had_ been Shepard’s way, after all. “The whole thing is... complicated. Tabloid fodder. Human male and turian male both adoptive parents of a baby girl with no listed father? Clearly there’s some secret marriage, or something.”

“ _Madre de Dios_. Is nothing sacred?"

Kaidan chuckled. “No, not to the tabloids. But a lot of the legal stuff is... preparation, really. If one of us gets killed. The Hierarchy is talking about keeping Garrus mostly out of combat, but every turian is a reservist, and he’s one of the best. There’s no way he wouldn’t be called up. And me, well.”

“Yeah.”

“The hardest part to explain is the timing. There are... implications. I’ll tell you, if you want, but it might not make anything less complicated.”

“I kinda admit, I’ve wondered.”

Kaidan nodded. _In for a penny..._ “If you do the math, it’s not technically possible. Naturally, I mean. Obviously there was tech involved. The... ugly part I’d like to keep out of the limelight is the thought that she’d cheated on Garrus, once I was back.”

“No way I’d believe that. Jane didn’t have eyes for anybody but him. _Dios_ , but if I could ever have a woman look at me like that--how she did at Garrus, when he showed up on Menae...”

Kaidan’s lips flickered, hinting at a smile. “I’d... sorta hoped, maybe, that I could patch up what I did on Horizon. But... when I saw them--nah. I knew I was out of her life.”

“Sorry, _amigo_.”

“No. I’m not. We were close, at the end--as close as we could be, I think. I’ve made my peace with it. Anyway--where was I? Oh. It was all Miranda, again. When Jane died--with the first Normandy--she was pregnant. I didn’t know. Doubt she did, either.”

“You guys were...” James fiddled his fingers at Kaidan, who smiled, weakly.

“Yeah. Then, at least.” Kaidan swallowed down the emotions pushing at his throat and continued. “When she got Shepard, Miranda was able to save... it. She never said how far along Jane had been, but it couldn’t have been far. Anyway, she’d kept it, somehow, all that time. The two years Jane was dead, all that time on the SR-2--all the way until after.”

‘After’ was code for a lot of things. _After the galaxy we knew nearly ended. After the Crucible. After the Reapers. After Shepard._

Kaidan hadn’t realized he’d been silent until James prodded him. “Then?”

“I wasn’t there--out nearly getting myself killed cleaning up. Miranda got a hold of Garrus. Between them and Liara, they got the tech they needed to... grow her, I guess. Artificial, well, everything. Miranda used some experimental thing to speed up her development--she was born after five or six months, I think. When she was about a month old I ended up back in London. Broken leg, trashed my port. Garrus came to see me in the hospital. Told me about her. When I got out he let me stay with him, and I just never left.”

“And you adopted her.”

“Eventually. It wasn’t immediate.”

“Did you want to?”

“Did I-- _James._ She’s my _daughter._ She was the moment I held her, still in the hospital, only minutes after I knew she existed. I didn’t feel worthy, not after what I did to Jane. Still don’t. But I still loved-- _love--_ her, both of them. When the Council started making noise about me taking too much time off, Garrus asked me if I wanted to adopt her, legally. Of course I did.”

Vega sat, processing, for awhile; Kaidan let him, knowing that this was the sort of emotional territory James struggled with. His upbringing left him a little sensitive to absent fathers.

“You ever gonna tell her?”

Kaidan glanced up. “Yes. It’s a lot for someone to take in, though. For now... we’re just concerned with keeping her safe, out of the media. Let her be a kid.”

“Maybe this is too personal, _jefe_ , but... what happens if one of you guys finds someone? I mean... you can’t just stay single forever.”

Kaidan chuckled, if dryly. “Yeah. That. It would be tricky no matter what, really. The whole military spouse thing is... really problematic when you’re a Spectre.”

“I hear you.”

“Family structures are gonna be interesting for a while, I think. It’ll be what it is. We’ll have a big enough place, eventually, and hell, who knows. More kids running around. It’ll work.”

James nodded in assent, seeming puzzled, before sighing eventually. “I wish you woulda told me, Kaidan.”

“I know. It was stupid. I should have.” Kaidan scratched his jaw, the stubble rasping against his fingertips. “We should get back to it.”

“Yeah, _jefe_.” They both stood; Kaidan headed for the terminal, James for the door. He hesitated when he went to palm the orange lock. “Hey, uh--we haven’t really heard much about the mission. Folks are askin’.”

“Super-secret-Spectre-business,” Kaidan said, smiling just a tad, and James rolled his eyes.

“Now’s a hell of a time to be picking up Joker-speak, you know.”

“You’ll get orders when you get ‘em, soldier.”

“Alright, man. See you around.”

As the door slid closed, Kaidan stood in front of his desk, leaning on his arms, elbows locked. “Right. Super-secret-Spectre-business. About that.”

Once it registered his ID, the terminal’s light started flashing green and orange--priority message--and Kaidan sighed upon seeing the sender. “Dammit, Hackett.”

Then another showed up--and his eyebrow raised. He didn’t think it was coincidental that Liara would send something through a triple-encrypted, one-way channel within ten minutes of Hackett’s orders.

This was going to be interesting.


	4. Garrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Plot-Related Things Happen and Kasumi may well find her nemesis.

Of course, by the time Garrus had found someone to watch AJ--he’d given in and called Kasumi back; he hoped his daughter would stay in bed and not learn how to hack his terminal in his absence--he was late, and he was pulling favors with Victus as it was.

“Sorry, Adrien--had to get someone for AJ--” He stopped short as the turian in front of him turned around and it was Councilor Arterius, not Victus, who stood just inside the office.

“Hello, _Advisor_ ,” Arterius said, emphasizing that Garrus’s official title was still... not precisely within traditional Hierarchy lines. He was high up, sure, but Arterius was second to only Primarchs, and that only just. “I see we both have meetings with the Primarch.”

 _“Councilor, your meeting with Primarch Victus has been cancelled,”_ Victus’s VI assistant said. _“Reaper Advisor Vakarian has a meeting with Primarch Victus. It started seven minutes ago.”_

“Which is longer than I’ve been here standing talking to _you_ , drone,” Arterius snarled, “and you _still_ haven’t understood that _I must meet with Primarch Victus._ ” His hands fisted, twitching, right arm straying to his side.

_“As I have already informed you on five previous occasions within the past seven-point-eight minutes, Councilor Arterius, your meeting has been cancelled.”_

Arterius rumbled something highly inelegant at the terminal, whipped out a sidearm--one which Garrus knew, from his rather long history in various kinds of law enforcement, was _not_ the legal kind--and fired on the terminal, repeatedly. It sparked, then shorted out.

An alarm blared and a voice--not automated--piped into the room. _“Primarch, please shelter in place. Gunshots have been heard at your location. I repeat, Primarch, shelter in place. Do not leave your location. I repeat, gunshots have--”_

Arterius fired at the security monitors and audio feed.

Garrus noted, vaguely, as the weapon spun to focus on him almost in slow motion, that he should probably do something with the also-illegal sidearm he was carrying, maybe consider activating the probably-illegal tactical shield Kasumi insisted be on his omni-tool.

Instead, he noticed that in the split-second he had to decide, his visor flashed the presence of Primarch Victus behind him.

Garrus couldn’t exactly say what happened next, other than it ended with the one-time top-ranked hand-to-hand combat expert pinning Councilor Arterius to the floor, one hand having disrupted his weapon arm, blunted talons of the other buried in the Councilor’s neck, still able to deal lethal damage but not sharp enough to slice clean through for a quick kill. Stuck in cartilage and bone and plate, his talons grated and ground in protest as Victus grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him free from the spluttering, wounded turian.

C-Sec agents were on the scene moments later, one attempting to apply first aid as Arterius bled out with horrific slurping noises, others aiming their weapons at Garrus, still more communicating rapidly with Victus.

Damn if Garrus didn’t wish Shepard were around right about now.

“No Shepard without Vakarian, eh?” he mumbled to himself, particularly as his ‘tool, visor and sidearm were all taken from him and he was ushered into a chair at gunpoint and told, in no uncertain terms, to sit.

“Vakarian?”

“Yes, sir?” Garrus looked up to see Victus, who was offering, of all things, a square of cloth. Garrus took it, trying to get the worst of the inky, blue gore off his hands.

“Was this, perhaps, what you were coming to talk to me about?”

“It... it had to do with Arterius, yes. But... all I knew was he was possibly trying to undo the krogan alliances.”

“You have proof?”

“On my omni-tool, sir.”

Victus nodded, said something to the officer beside him, and was promptly given Garrus’s confiscated items. The Primarch raised an eyebrow at the Suppressor. “Nice choice, Vakarian. If a bit illegal.”

“It... was hers, Adrien. Small for me to handle, but... I need something in case I ever need to keep AJ safe.”

The teasing tilt to Victus’s mandibles faded; they flattened tight against his jaw, and Garrus didn’t miss the momentary keen in his subvocals. Victus and Shepard hadn’t been close, but, as many did, now, Adrien understood the loss, the meaning behind giving up one’s own weapon to carry another’s.

“We have a security feed, sir. From across the hall. The door was open.” A C-Sec officer came up to the Primarch. “We’ll need to analyze it further, as well as data from the visor, sir. And bring Mr. Vakarian--”

“ _Advisor_ Vakarian, officer. Treat the man with respect. Without him we wouldn’t have won the war.”

“Victus, sir, I--” Garrus was fumbling, something he rarely did, these days.

“Those were Thanixes on the Normandy, Garrus. Only a turian can calibrate those properly.” Victus turned back to the officer. “Do what you need to, but Garrus Vakarian is a Hierarchy war hero. The Council will vouch for him.”

The officer nodded. “Sir, will you come down to the office? It’s protocol--”

“I was an officer too, kid. I know. Can I get a moment with the Primarch, first?” The officer nodded and Garrus turned to Victus. “Adrien, I--”

“That was an attempt on my life, Garrus.” Victus looked straight at Garrus, subvocals unwavering. 

“He was aiming at--”

“Me. I suspected he would try it. I had a snippet of audio from a VI--not enough to go on, and it came through anonymously.”

Garrus immediately wondered if Kasumi was the anonymous VI.

“That’s why I kept him waiting until you got here,” Adrien said, sighing, pressing one set of talons to his forehead. “I wanted backup. But it very nearly got _you_ killed. And you with a little one. Spirits.”

“Adrien, _I killed a Councilor_.”

“Who was attempting to assassinate a Primarch, and probably another high-ranking turian in the process. Not particularly legal.” Garrus blinked at him, nearly expressionless. “Luckily for you, Primarchs rank higher.”

“Somehow I don’t think Councilor-killers go up in rank.” Garrus rubbed his good mandible. “Who’s in line for replacing him?”

“Well, Vakarian,” Adrien said, sighing heavily. “That’s the root of the entire problem. It’s you.”

 

Kasumi sent Garrus _another_ message. Nothing.

It was far later than the hour or so Garrus had said he’d be gone, and while the thief wasn’t _worried_ , particularly, she was... possibly slightly concerned.

If only because she had _no_ clue how to handle AJ on her own. None.

A brief extranet search suggested a variety of options to feed a child, many of which involved cooking, which was decidedly not one of Kasumi’s skills. One she wanted to work on, yes, but it was so _entertaining_ , watching restaurant chefs grow increasingly upset as their cooking pans shifted places on the stove when they weren’t working or salt was changed with sugar, cinnamon with paprika...

Something was pinging at her instincts, and they were very, very rarely wrong. She hadn’t kept herself alive for this long without keeping them sharp and honed. There was something wrong with Garrus's extended absence. She knew Kaidan was gone dark, but what kind of thief--or hacker?--was she if she couldn’t get around that little problem?

So she started typing, and--after a moment’s thought--sent a blind copy of her note to Liara while she was at it. Triple encryption, untraceable.

She thought about leaving, but you couldn’t just up and leave a toddler, could you? No; the term was something like _terrible twos_ , wasn’t it? Kasumi had never been much for small children, although she had always been _excellent_ at hide-and-seek.

Who could she summon up on a whim to help her with the child? There was no way she was up to manage AJ; give her live bomb disarming runs over childcare any day. Her hands flicked over her ‘tool as she thought desperately, watching the time tick just past 0600.

“Sumi?”

Kasumi froze, turning slowly, and looked at the sleep-ruffled girl behind her. “Uh... yes, sweetie?”

“I need af’room.” For emphasis, the little girl’s knees squeezed together and her eyes widened. “‘leese?”

“Let’s go,” Kasumi said, following the toddler to the bathroom, trying to figure out how the one-piece pajamas came undone and hoping she’d figure it out before the girl wet herself.

There was _no way_ Kasumi Goto would be thwarted by a onesie.


	5. Kaidan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kaidan sits on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, sorry; there's a longer one next, though. Trying to get this rolling again!

Almost as soon as he’d opened Hackett’s message, another--also high-priority, triple-encrypted, yadda yadda--message pinged his terminal.

This one had a code word in the subject.

A cold sweat broke out on his spine and his biotics fizzled to his skin, waiting, ready to strike. He took a breath to calm himself before opening the file.

He recognized the encoding as Kasumi’s (she didn’t trust the layers of security Liara had in place, which never ceased to strike him as somewhat absurd, given that the Shadow Broker had gotten _her_ dossier just fine). Once translated, the note was predictably cryptic:

_Left me with Skipper for a quick meet with AV, council business, 4 hours ago. Zero comm. I’m pinging. Laying low._

He was willing to bet Liara already knew about it. If Kasumi was telling him she was laying low, it wasn’t turn-the-ship-around concerning, but it was enough to put him on alert. The next note would be one or the other: _all clear_ or _get your ass here NOW, Alenko._

He returned to Hackett’s message, skimming through the briefs. Yeah, okay; this first mission was as much a shakedown for the new setup as anything else (Normandy and Joker and Alenko and Vega without EDI or Garrus or Tali or Cortez. Or... Shit, he really had to stop thinking like that.) Drop into an only-sort-of registered colony (so probably all mercenaries, of _course)_ which was having some very strange probe readings, possibly relating to the Reapers or, fuck, Leviathan. Why did Hackett have such an insistence on sending Spectres to handle Alliance business that would have been fine with a decent ops team?

He sighed and closed the message, opening Liara’s. _About to be a situation with the Council. I’ll handle it. Sit tight._

Well.

If it wasn’t just his day to twiddle his thumbs.

Maybe it would just be a better idea to go and spar with Vega rather than sit here and stare at messages. The marine needed to work on his biotics defenses, anyway, and if he was going N7 he was certainly going to need the practice.


	6. Garrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Garrus gets some unexpected assistance.

Garrus followed the officers dutifully to C-Sec HQ, sighed as they ran him through every set of biometrics they could find--twice--and then demanded details about the cybernetics and synthetic pieces in his jaw and cowl. C-Sec had only gotten worse, really, between the red tape and the inability to just _get their damned jobs done._ He’d tried to be agreeable about the whole thing, but he was growing increasingly worried about leaving AJ for this long, and the whole situation was just going from bad to worse.

When yet another drone scanned annoyingly near his right mandible, he suddenly snapped, spinning, batting the thing out of the air to crash against a wall before snarling to the nearest officer, “Gunship. Rocket. Face. _Got it?”_

Well, it had gotten him a set of stuncuffs, and while his ‘tool wouldn’t have even let them latch on his wrists (even his backup and second backup wouldn’t have) and he knew by muscle memory the command-line prompt he’d need to flick them away, all that was worse than useless. They were turian make: a clever talon wouldn’t be sliding into the mechanism.

Where was Kasumi when you needed her?

He dearly hoped he was where she should be--with AJ; _spirits_ , the kid would be impossible after this much time in Kasumi’s care, they’d probably rewired half the place.

Eventually they left him alone in a holding cell, finally letting him out of the cuffs. His internal clock told him it was well past the Citadel’s artificial dawn, and he hoped Kasumi knew at least something about caring for toddlers because AJ really wasn’t a happy camper when her schedule changed. Not having either of her parents would be a big enough problem for her as it was.

He hadn’t let his mind address the whole _being the next Councilor_ thing yet.

Why should he? He just ever-so-conveniently _killed the last one,_ even though he’d been a truly horrible choice for the job.

Garrus thought the clock had ticked over to sometime after 0800 when one of the few voices in the galaxy he had grown from hating to being truly thankful to know floated through the hallway.

“Ms. Lawson, I assure you, no charges have been filed--”

“Just because they haven’t been doesn’t mean you’ll release him. Let me in.”

“Without charges, Mr. Vakarian has no need for an advocate--”

“His name is _Advisor_ Vakarian, officer, and--check the last name; _law_ is in it for a reason. He is allowed an advocate. Open the door.” The officer hesitated, his palm hovering over the mechanism, Miranda embodying the concept of _if looks could kill._

“Just open it,” snapped the sergeant at the desk, finally, and the officer sighed and pressed his hand against the panel. It scanned his handprint, blipped, and with a creak the metal door parted ways with the frame.

“Advisor Vakarian!” Miranda was barely recognizable and yet entirely herself: the bodysuit was gone, exchanged for a blazer and skirt, but she still wore her knee-high stiletto boots. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun, make-up in heavy layers, obscuring her features but not her face. He noted, when she made eye contact, that she was wearing ocular lenses, her dark eyes stunningly green (and surely fooling retinal sensors). “Advisor! Are you alright?”

“Yes, Ms. Lawson, thank you,” he said, falling immediately into the game. Miranda was the best in the business at this sort of thing, even now. Long as he played along, she’d have him back home before he could say _Normandy_. He wasn’t even sure how C-Sec had managed to keep him this long, given his status in the Hierarchy and Victus’s backing.

“Did you say anything to anyone? _Anyone_ , Advisor?”

“No.” Garrus did his best to brush her off, mumbling something about having more sense than that, and tacking on “eh, Skipper?” to the end of it.

“Fine,” she said, replying to his murmured query. “And don’t you worry about that. Just worry about getting yourself out of here.”

 _Glad she’s OK._ Garrus sighed and tried to focus. There was still blood on his hands--literally, drying into inky crusts between talons and plates--and it itched.

 

As it turned out, he didn’t need to say much; Miranda had the Primarch on the line in minutes, and Garrus could hear the furious subvocals loud and clear even through the FTL comm. A junior officer took Garrus to a (guarded) lounge, where he was finally able to wash his hands. Not long after, the Executor himself came down, Miranda behind him, and it had been a long time since Garrus had seen any turian so cowed. _Victus must have laid into him--and if any human can get to a turian like that, it’s Miranda._

Miranda had parted ways with him once he was clear of C-Sec, saying she’d come by later. Even with her help expediting his release , it was after 1000 when he finally got home, trying not to think about what chaos might have happened with Kasumi and his two-year-old. When he opened the doors, though, the apartment was spotless--scarily so.

_This isn’t good._

“Kasumi?” he called, almost hesitantly, wondering if somehow he had the wrong place; but no, his ‘tool had sorted through the alarms and security layers in the order necessary to keep the system from locking out, and that was AJ’s finger painting collection hanging on the wall.

“Daddy!”

Well, there was one answer.

Another shimmered into existence next to him, tactical cloak sliding away. “We’ve been playing hide-and-seek.”

“You still haven’t learned how to say hello, have you,” Garrus grumbled, his heart pounding with the sudden onset of adrenaline. He still crouched to scoop AJ up when she ran to him, though, bouncing her gently on his hip.

“‘Sumi said Daddy was paying with Uncle Vic! I wanna pay with Uncle Vic!”

Garrus’s mandibles fluttered in Kasumi’s direction; the thief shrugged and strolled off to the kitchen. “The _Primarch_ had to go home to Palaven, baby,” he told his daughter instead.

“ _Uncle Vic_ , not _pimark_ ,” she protested, before hugging him--well, sort of; she had one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, her cheek against his cowl. “Issed you.”

“I missed you too, Jay,” he murmured, letting his subvocals rumble in contentment; she couldn’t hear them, but Shepard had always said the vibration was soothing, and it seemed to do the same for her daughter.

“Juice, AJ?” Kasumi said, and the toddler started squirming.

With AJ happily occupied once more, Garrus crossed his arms and looked at Kasumi sideways. “There’s no way you managed to handle her and keep the place this clean.”

“A thief never shares her secrets,” Kasumi murmured, smiling, the expression reaching into the shadow of her hood. Garrus shook his head and had the distinct feeling that he would figure out what kept the two of them occupied--later, at an inconvenient moment, and he would not be happy about it.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece will have shortish chapters, for a while, alternating between Kaidan and Garrus.
> 
> Feel free to come lurk or join in on the fangirling and general geekery on my [Tumblr.](http://rosevoiced.tumblr.com)


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